Unseen
by Madame Kri
Summary: When Varia mansion suddenly goes into emergency lockdown, Vongola's elite independent assassination squad will discover there are enemies you cannot murder with guns, swords, knives, illusions, lightning and knowledge of martial arts. How can you kill something you don't understand? Something you cannot see? Something you ... do not believe in? Horror/paranormal/mystery
1. The Bright Young Things

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.**

**Hello :) Welcome to my new story. This time the genres are horror, paranormal, supernatural, mystery and thriller.**

**I just love Varia and since I already make fun of them big time, here is something more serious :) I hope you will like it, english is not my first language, so forgive me any spelling mistakes.**

**I promise to try and make this story as horrifying as I can :D Can't promise everyone will stay alive at the end though ...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

There are days, we all have them, when you feel on edge, looking over your shoulder, feeling unusual, like wind can just blow right through you. And you feel something ... _something_ will happen. Who knows what, who knows when, maybe it won't, but you can't shake this strong feeling. People either spend the day nervously waiting or they shrug it off as their imagination. Like Superbia Squalo did this morning.

Walking through dark hallway in magnificent mansion, hidden somewhere in Italy, he observed the tricky weather outside large windows that really needed to be cleaned. Sky was an unnatural bright grey colour. It should rain. But it doesn't. He woke up with this unexplainable feeling that something was off. But he couldn't find anything different about his room and his morning routine - shower, brushing teeth and hair, dressing up - went smoothly. Still, he felt _something_ will happen.

If there was a stray noise or an uncareful intruder, Squalo was the one who sensed it; Xanxus too, but boss never bothered himself. Why would he, when there were hundreds of Varia soldiers and five higly trained and experienced officers? And if the world's best assassins couldn't handle it, then they deserve to have their heads chopped off. As long as it didn't interrupt his meals, boss couldn't care less.

However, Squalo was currently at loss as to what to do. He _did_ sense _something_, but couldn't specify what it was. Not a noise. Not a physical presence of an enemy. Not some sort of signal or aura from unidentified rings or flames. Walking quickly down what seemed like an endless hallway, he shifted his cold grey eyes from dirty windows to quickly calculate in what time he'll arrive for breakfast and if there will be any breakfast left for him to eat. It was not like Squalo to be late, but his biorythm - and he would never admit such a thing to anyone but himself - was completely turned upside down. This, and the recent lack of missions, lead Squalo to believe this feeling that _something_ will happen is nothing but a trick of his imagination.

Varia hasn't had a mission since the beginning of August, and it was well into November now. This caused his fellow officers to become rather lazy, and if there was something that Squalo hated more than the lack of bloody missions was laziness. To be precise; other people's laziness. Strategy captain _never_ considered himself as lazy. But those scumbags! Lussuria barely even trained lately. He slowly drifted around, sipping his homemade pink cocktails. Leviathan devoted all his time to Xanxus. That piece of shit got even more spoiled because of it, and Squalo honestly didn't think it was possible! Let's not even mention that bratty prince. He was always lazy, bored to the point that Lussuria and Squalo once wondered if it was a mental condition and if he should receive treatment for it. For two months and a half, Belphegor moved around the mansion with such high level of laziness, he was one step away from losing his spine.

As much as Squalo disliked the new annoying illusionist Flan, he was convinced the snot-nosed kid at least won't give in to this new atmosphere. But captain was proved wrong and, much to his anger, he even caught Flan calling Mukuro not long ago. It was obvious Mukuro wanted Flan for something, but illusionist masterfully lied that he's too busy with various missions in Varia. After this shameful display of laziness, Flan proceeded to sit down on the couch, doing nothing, rotting away like the deceiving, lying, lazy punk he is.

Tall, dark wooden double door greeted Squalo, as he impatiently pushed them open, immediately feeling irritated, when he saw Bel lying on the table, Flan yawning slowly, Lussuria reading a magazine and Leviathan kneeling beside the boss, who seemed to be sleeping. Lazy, lazy, _lazy_!

With a grumpy sound, showing how very disatisfied he is, captain of Varia sat down in his usual chair, quickly glancing over burned toast - the only food left for him to eat. _Burned toast_? Was Levi cooking again? Leviathan stood up from his kneeling position and was just about to sit down, when he caught Squalo's glare. Lighting man quickly averted his eyes, embarrassed.

"Is it Wednesday?" asked Flan, picking his nose. Everyone was quiet. "I'll take that as a yes." Squalo really couldn't take looking at them anymore and burned toast was not on his menu, so he banged his fist on the table, causing Bel's cherished crown to slip of his head, and walked back outside. Fuck them!

_Oú es-tu?_

"VVVOOOIIII!"

White haired man jumped, turned in mid-air and landed on his feet gracefully, sword ready to slash through intruder on his outstrteched arm. How did they manage to hide their presence? How did they manage to sneak so deep in Varia Headquarters ...

His train of thought was cut short when he looked around. Empty hallway. No. He heard a voice; a whispering, barely audible voice, but he heard it. Is the enemy hiding? Slowly, silenty, he turned around on his heels. Usually dark corridor, now brightened by unnatural whiteness coming from the sky, was deserted.

For fuck's sake! He was losing it. Assassination squad _needs_ new missions. _He_ needs them! Lowering his arm, Squalo cursed his imagination and pulled curtains over every dirty large window he passed on his way back to his room. It is just too bright.

**~UNSEEN~**

Sleeping is for losers with no life. Sleeping is for peasants, who work from dawn until dusk, until their brains rot from endless routine and they become lifeless, dull puppets, working for their king or prince, queen or princess, not even once stopping to question _why_, because they are too exhausted to even think. It's not because the world works that way, no; people like _him_ made people like _that_ accept the world works this way, and those idiots give in, actually believing they can't change anything. It's hilarious. Well of course it is ... if you are a prince. Life is never dull on your side. You're never exhaused from manual work and your brains don't rot away.

And Belphegor didn't consider himself just a prince, he was _the_ prince. His life was way too exciting and though he didn't do anything at all lately, the mere thought of how lucky he was that he can do whatever he wants with his life was keeping him awake. But other people will never know of this fantastic feeling. Not they; going to school, learning not the truth, but what each country considered was safe and useful to put in public textbooks (did kiddies honestly believe their books are written the same way as books available in private schools for the rich?), plunging in debts during student years, washing away fear of uncertain future with alcohol parties (which killed the few brain cells they still had working), and then work, work, work. Work for the rest of their lives, having a few divorces along the way, arguments with unbearable children. Ah. You can push people so far yet they still work for you.

"Ushishishishi." Quietly laughing, genious with royal blood was slowly turning a silver, recently polished knife between his fingers. Silver light from the moon was creating beautiful silver traces on the walls of his room. He loved this reflection his knives made. No, people will never know how good it feels to have your entire life ahead of you and you can do whatever you want with it. So much money he'd never be able to spend it all even if he'd have two lifetimes ahead of him. Bel's smile disappeared. Nature is a bitch. Why couldn't he have received his twin brother's life when he killed him? Live twice as long? If he'd receive life of every peasant (and royalty, while we're at it) he murdered up until he was eleven, he would already be immortal.

"Immortality," he said to himself in the darkness, lightened by silver traces, "is what a prince deserves." He threw his knife into Flan's photograph on the wall. It hit illusionist directly between his expressionless eyes. Yes, only the thought of death could fill Belphegor with such suffocating anxiety. As much as a genious he was he didn't understand, no, he didn't _want_ to understand why people like him, for whom murder and torture were a way of life and a job, had to die. He took lives away - didn't that mean he is supposed to be death itself? Escaping what would certainly be his end numerous times during high ranked missions - didn't it mean he cheated death more times than he could count? It didn't seem right that he will die one day, by natural or unnatural causes.

Lazily struting to Flan's photo, wanting to pull the knife out and next aim it at illusionist's mouth, a loud, rusty sound made him stop. He was too well trained to jump in suprise, but he did twitch at sudden noise. Irritating vibrating sound, very loud, like two pieces of rusty iron would rub against each other. It was getting louder and Bel put his palms over his ears; he never heard anything like it inside the Varia mansion.

"Che!" he spated out, when something screeched. Just when it was getting too loud and the prince stick his index fingers in ears, the noise ceased. "Hmm?"

Looking up, assuming the sound came from above, he lowered his hands, quickly putting them in pockets of his uniform, his fingers reassuringly wrapped themselves around the knives hidden in pockets. The air is still and the room is silent. Standing still, normal people might say unnaturaly still, he considered different reasons for this odd sound, when a faint scent of rust and iron came, teasing his nostrils.

It was only now that Belphegor noticed the beautiful silver traces on the wall are ruined; thick vertical shadows contorted them. Alert, he quickly turned around. Behind his soft, blond bangs, prince's eyes widened in unpleasant suprise. Thick iron bars, decorated with brownish-green rust, are blocking his window, making his room seem, and feel, like luxurious prison.

Bel is confused. Having always been in dominant position, controlling everything, pulling all the strings like a master puppeteer, he did _not_ like being confused, he did _not_ want to be confused. Unable to cope with this new, unfamiliar feeling, confusion was quickly replaced with anger, and prince ran to the door of his room, opening it with unnecessary force.

Cool breeze of spacious hallway greeted his heated face. It was pleasant, but he didn't have time to enjoy it. Hallway was drowning in half-darkness, silver light of the moon made it relatively visible. Belphegor looked left, then slowly to his right. Every tall window had ugly, rusty iron bars over them ... every window, as far as he could see. More than this unusual scene, it bothered him that hallway was empty. _No, really, the Hell? Sound of iron bars coming down over windows was so fucking loud it would wake the dead ... yet there is no one here_.

As soon as he finished this thought, a door opened in the distance. Tall figure hurried towards Belphegor, and soon he recognised it as Lussuria.

"Bel-chan!"

Man with flames of the Sun was correcting his upper uniform. Obviously he dressed it in a hurry. As he came closer, the prince could see how worried he was.

"Oi Lussuria, what's happening? No one ever told me the mansion had _this_ kind of mechanism." He waved his hand towards the nearest bared window. "Are we under attack?"

Lussuria paused, thoughtfully looking at the window Bel waved at.

"I know we have this mechanism as a defense, should someone attack us inside or try to steal something. This way they would be trapped, with no way out, waiting for us to kill them. But ..." Older man smiled at angry Bel. "... as you can see, we never needed to use it."

"Then why are we using it now?"

Lussuria's smile disappeared. He observed the window again. "I don't know. Only Squ has the security code. Only he can input it in system in the control room and release the bars. But Squ is asleep and it looks like the others are too."

Lussuria should know; his room was one room away from Squalo's. If strategy captain would sense such extreme danger that he thought he should lock down the mansion, he'd definately woke up his nearest colleague, giving him instructions for further action. Not to mention Squalo would make so much noise Lussuria would wake up before he'd come barging in his room.

"I'll go wake up Squ," Lussuria continued, feeling the need to get a hold of the situation because Bel's impatient nature was causing him to be angry, and when Bel was angry, he took action before he thought ... like now, for example, he pulled out three knives and threw them at bars. With a loud _clanck_ they hit the bars and sadly fell on the floor. Well what else did the prince thought they'd do? Cut through iron? Then again, these were Bel's knives, and if they would cut through, it wouldn't suprise Lussuria. Waking up the only person who had the power - and the boss's permission - to lock down Varia mansion seemed the most logical thing to do.

"Bel-chan," older man continued in high voice that made Belphegor even more annoyed, "you go wake Flan-chan and Levi."

"Shouldn't we wake the boss?"

"_Maaa_! That guy would probably feed us to crocodiles if we dare to disturb him for technology malfunctioning!"

Prince, curious, wanted to ask if that's really what Lussuria think it is, only technology malfuncioning, but before he could open his mouth, a cold breeze, stronger than before, sweept over them. Wherever their skin was exposed, they felt numbing, freezing feeling, and they gripped their jackets, closing them and pressing their arms on their torso, trying to keep in the warmth.

"Is there a window open somewhere?"

"Stupid," Bel spoke up, still angry, "How could this come from outside when it's freezing cold?" Their teeth quivered and Bel had trouble breathing and speaking at the same time. "It's not that cold in November. Not in Italy."

"But, but ...! How could that come from _inside_?"

"I don't know," prince spatted out, irritated. Enoguh of this confusion! He didn't like this! "If a window would be opened, don't you think we'd hear it shattering when the bars went down?"

Lussuria smiled at him. "Bel-chan, these windows open to the outside ... you know that." Bel almost blushed from embarrassement. Of course he knew it! How can this pervert expect him to think clearly, when he's been locked in here like a caged animal, freezing in this fucking wind that came out of nowhere? No one can think clearly in these conditions that _do not_ befit royalty!

Feeling his colleague's frustration getting worse, Lussuria turned, about to quietly walk away to wake the loud swordsman. Suddenly, the cold breeze escalated into wild, freezing wind. Belphegor shouted something, but Lussuria couldn't hear him, blinking rapidly to stop himself tearing up from the cold. Loud thud was heard somewhere close. Frosty wind ceased immediately. Before older man could look up, find the source of the loud noise, something marron, black and yellow fell from above, landing on the floor with another loud thud.

"_Bel-chan_!"

To Lussuria's horror, that something was Belphegor. Prince coughed. He lay on the floor, face down. As he coughed again, thick stream of blood made it's way between his lips onto the cold wooden tiles. Lussuria kneeled.

"Oh my! What happened? Bel-chan?"

Prince swallowed hard, then spit out more blood. Lifting his head up in a daze, he slowly turned to lay on his side.

"Wind ..." His voice was hoarse and barely audible. Lussuria leaned closer.

"The wind? It blew you up? I always told you to eat more! Maaaa, you have no muscles on those tiny arms, no wonder it swept you up like a skinny feather you are!"

Bel really wanted to leash out on the man kneeling over him, relieve his anger over this pervert's idiocy, but he could barely move or speak as it was and what he wanted to say was far too important to delay it.

"Wind ... there is ..." He coughed and blood spilled out of his mouth more violently. Lussuria backed away a little. "... something in it ..."

"_Inside_ the wind?"

"... grabbed me around ... the chest ..."

Prince became very quiet. Lussuria was vigilant; Bel's face became a little green and the blood would not stop dripping from his mouth. Is he going to throw up ...? Older man backed away a little more.

"... lifted me up ..." Belphegor's voice was even more faint than before. "... slammed me down ..."

"It's alright, don't strain yourself! Just ... wait here until someone else shows up, someone who doesn't mind getting puked on! I'll wake Squ and-"

Moving inhumanly fast, prince outstreched his arm and grabbed Lussuria's sleeve. Older man was far away, but still close enough for Bel's fingers to take a hold of his uniform.

"... said something ..."

"Oh? What?"

"... it said something ..."

"The wind said something?" Lussuria took a long, careful look at the colleague lying on the floor before him, searching for signs of head injury.

"... no ... inside ..." Bel unwillingly swallowed large portion of blood, wanting to speak more clearly. Meanwhile older man wondered is prince's dark side surfaced again by the sight of his own blood. That would explain weird things he's saying ...

"Whatever was inside the wind ... it spoke ..."

Lussuria stayed quiet, observing Bel's green face and bloody jaw. It was dead silent now in the hallway, excluding Belphegor's loud breathing and coughing; each cough, no matter how small, gave birth to new flood of chunky blood. Thick crimson liquid created a rather large circle under Bel's head, and air was polluted by intrusive scent of blood.

"What did it say?" This time, Lussuria spoke seriously.

"I think ... oú es-tu ..."

"But isn't," man with Sun flames stared in suprise, "that french?"

_Bang_! _Bang_! _Bang_!

"VVVOOOOIIII WHAT THE FUCK!"

Outrageously loud shooting from upstairs woke up Varia's captain, but neither Lussuria nor Belphegor spared him a thought; their heads shoot up, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Boss!"

"_Boss_!"

Two men immediately stood up, Bel almost falling back down. He threw up a gush of blood on his shirt, coughed agressively, but wasted no time worrying about his health; along with Lussuria, he sprinted down the corridor, towards the stairs, with all his might.

* * *

**Please review? I would appreciate it very, very much :)**


	2. Disposable Teens

**Thank you for reviews! :)**

* * *

As Lussuria and injured prince reached the stairs, Superbia Squalo joined them. He had noticed the bared windows, but have not yet registered what this meant; he was preoccupied with thoughts of Xanxus in danger. The group ran in silence, Bel a little behind than the other two. No doubt boss can take care of himself better than anyone else they knew, still they were worried. Worry is not a pleasant feeling, even more so if you're not used to worrying about well-being of other humans. Belphegor was experiencing all sorts of emotions today. How annoying.

Darkened corridor seemed even longer than usual, giving off the feeling of intense anxiety, especially with the bars casting jail-like shadows over the walls. Xanxus's room is somewhere in the middle, but for some reason it's harder to find that wooden double door, decorated with magnificent lion heads, when you're already confused. Perhaps it was because he had wanted to sort out his confused thoughts that caused the realisation to finally dawn on Squalo.

"Lussuria!" He glanced sideways at the man running by his side. For a moment, strong iron scent of blood made him cut his train of thought - Xanxus is hurt? - until his senses mellowed down and he figured out it came from behind him; a quick look over his shoulder gave strategy captain one more information to be confused and angry about - one of his officers is wounded. He'll kill the prince with his bare hands if this little thing proves to be a fucking setback in the fight they'll no doubt get themselves into when they reach the boss.

"When was the exact time of the lockdown?"

Lussuria admired how quick Squalo's brain cells processed the situation. It was obvious no one but him had the code for emergency mechanism, so captain wasted no time asking pointless questions such as who did this and what happened.

"At about eleven this night. I'm not sure Squ! I woke up because of the noise ... oh, maybe Bel-chan can tell you, he was already dealing with it when I woke up!"

Swordsman became silent, running down now silent hallway. Where is that damn door? He won't ask Belphegor, no. Let the prince save his strenght, should he be needed in battle. Also, Squalo grimaced, he very much doubted Bel was _dealing_ with the situation. Maybe he threw a few knives at the bars; sounds like something he would do. _Genious my ass_!

As if prince could sense his captain was underestimating his intelligence, he suddenly stopped running. "Don't move," he said loudly to the two men, now a great distance ahead of him. Without looking back, Lussuria and Squalo quietly came to a halt. Silence heavily stretched over them. Bel could hear his heart pulsing through his body; he's getting weaker. Blood had slowly ceased to drip from his mouth, but his head way still dizzy and now his body is feeling colder, much colder.

"Boss ... and whoever he's fighting with, aren't making any sounds."

Bel's voice was louder than usual, as prince was trying to hide how bad his condition is out of pure embarrassement. To get beaten by the wind? How shameful for a prince and an assassin. Having trouble swallowing, he knew if he'd spoke up in normal manner his voice would be faint and shaky ... it is bad enough that pervert witnessed his defeat, let's not give Squalo any chances to think less of him too. After Flan joined the Varia, Belphegor felt relieved because he was no longer the youngest member; and others were just beginning to treat him accordingly. If he gives into his pain now, his reputation as an adult will be strained.

"So what?" Strategy captain barked, failing to see how silence was important.

Bel breathed in deeply. His torso shook violently, and something thick and slimy made its way up his throat. With inhuman effort to hide his suffering, he swallowed down hard, taking a few deep breaths again. After ten long seconds, he was certain his stomach had calmed down enough for him to speak without fearing his gag reflex will act up again. He could sense the two men got very impatient in the meantime.

"Don't you get it?" Prince's voice, although still unusually loud, was now distinctly condescending. "Silence always mean vigilance. If it's quiet, we don't know what has happened or what's happening. Is someone dead? We don't know. No sounds of struggle, conversation, nothing."

"So we should proceed in silence and hide all traces of our presence, until we get a grip on the situation," Squalo finished, ignoring prince's condescending manner, observing his green face instead. Maybe Bel should stay here, in such bad shape he'll only be a hindrance. But he knew the prince well enough to know his order to stay back would only trigger a heated argument, wasting time they do not have.

"Move quietly," whispered Squalo. They started to move again, this time creeping down the hallway without making a single sound. Finally, the two men at the front intensely watched as beautiful double door came into their view. Everything was silent, even eerily so. Both of them started to sweat a little. Silence was very overbearing; silence is not a good sign, not a good sign at all ...

"_Blaaargghh_ ... oh shit."

With a loud, disgusting sound, Belphegor threw up a thick chunk of hot blood on his stripped shirt. As scent of fresh blood filled the air, Squalo turned around, forgeting about element of suprise they were supposed to use when entering Xanxus's room, and breathed in deeply, preparing to scream at this shitty, useless prince who ruined their _perfect_ chance ...

_Bang_!

A muffled crashing sound followed the shoot; the bullet probably hit something wooden, maybe a wardrobe. Strategy captain and his two officers barged through the door without a second thought or even a hint of hesitation. Any words they planned to say immediately stuck in their throats, as they were greeted by a most unusual scene.

Lights were turned on, probably by Xanxus, who was standing beside his bed. Holding a gun in his outstreched left arm, his eyes gazed somewhere on the other side of the room. Covers and pillows lay on the floor, thousands of small glass pieces in the far corner, at the end of a tall, engraved frame; the pieces once made a very grand mirror. Across from Xanxus, who didn't even blink upon the violent arrival of his subordinates, was a large, old wardrobe, made out of dark wood. A single bullet hole in the right upper side is deforming its ancient beauty ... there were three more bullet holes in the ceiling above the wardrobe.

"Boss-"

"Shut up."

Squalo fell silent, his thoughtful grey eyes fixed on Xanxus. Behind him, Bel and Lussuria turned and looked at every corner of the spacious room, but there was no sign of anyone here beside the boss. A few silent seconds passed, then a very low frequency sound came drumming through the air from the ceiling, right where the three bullet holes are. The sound was deep, faint and came in short sequences. Normal humans could not hear it; but Xanxus did catch an unusual vibration in the air. A second later, Belphegor sensed it too.

Teeth bared in a nervous smile, he croacked in his hoarse, still damaged, voice: "Here it comes."

Squalo, though not hearing anything, turned in the direction prince was looking at, his sword ready. Lussuria raised his fists, prince grabbed the knives form his pocket. Xanxus's finger tensed on the trigger.

Room suddenly became very dingy. In striking contrast, thick, blinding white fog had risen; seemingly out of nowhere. Obscuring their vision, making it harder to breathe, it filled every corner, until Varia, even with their extra sensitive and powerful eyesight, could barely see each other - they lost the sight of their boss completely.

"Boss! _Boss_! Search for the boss!" Lussuria's voice sounded strangely distant, as if the fog not only clouded everything in the room, but distanced it too. Squalo and Bel moved in opposed directions.

Piercing, high-pitched scream shocked them. The scream was unbearably loud and long, and Varia officers had to put hands over their ears - it was painful, like someone would rip their inner ear canal with a screeching needle. Prince gritted his teeth at sudden pain the voice was bestowing upon his body, Lussuria began to scream to relieve himself and Squalo's fingers madly scratched his head, drawing small, thin traces of blood.

Like pulling a curtain over a performance, the voice fell silent. Blinding fog vanished into the thin air. Their whole bodies shaking from heart-stopping experience, Bel and the man with flames of the Sun slowly, carefully let down their hands, looking around now once again clear room with utmost confusion and attentiveness.

Squalo, breathing quickly, stayed in the same pose. He was too distracted by what he was seeing. Xanxus, still holding a gun in his outstreched arm, gazing in the same direction as before, is ... is ... _what_? Swordsman can't put it in words, but something is wrong. Something feels _odd_.

Varia boss's eyes are widened in some sort of ... suprise? Disbelief? ... _Panic_? Squalo observed Xanxus's grip on the gun. His knuckles are almost white. He's sweating. Captain's eyes slided back up to his boss's face. _He saw something_.

"Squ," came a quiet whisper behind his back. Lussuria's voice was stiff. But Squalo didn't need to ask what was the matter; one quick glance over the room was enough to make him sweat down his spine.

Under the three bullet holes above the wardrobe, there were unsteady marks. At first they were shaky and big, towards the end they became bloody, as if someone scratched these marks on the hard wall with their fingernails, bleeding from the incessant clawing. Only the sight of them was enough to make Bel, Lussuria and Squalo feel throbbing pain under their fingernails. Suddenly, swordsman realized why Lussuria sounded so uptight - the marks formed words.

_Tutto cio che nascondi sotto terra il tempo lo riportera alla luce_.

**~UNSEEN~**

Downstairs, Flan had just come out of his room. Walking down the darkened hallway, still adjusting his frog hat he had put on in a hurry, illusionist curiously observed every bared window he passed. It seems the mansion is under attack. But why is it so quiet?

You know who is never quiet? A parrot. Parrots are never quiet. Flan really wants a parrot. Why not? They have all the positive qualities - they're faithful, funny and smart. The fun he would have letting loose a small ball of feathers into senpai's room. The constant parrot talk would drive him crazy. Does boss allow pets? He just couldn't imagine asking Xanxus for a pet. But if he gets one secretly ...

Flan stopped dead in his tracks. Eerie silence surrounded him, but what made him suddenly alert was that this silence seems ... unnatural. All he could hear were his footsteps, not distant owl howling from outside, muffled by closed windows. Voices and gunshots that violently awoke him minutes ago were muted. No sound. Only his breathing and footsteps.

He moved again, and his steady steps did not give away how uncertain he feels inside. Silence. Darkness. Silence. Footsteps. It is loud, this silence. Very loud. If Flan would not hear hard pattering of his footsteps, youngest Varia officer would be sure he had gone deaf.

"Hm?" Green-haired teen came to a halt again. Tilting his head to the right a little, his eyes emotionlessly stared ahead, into the dark vast corridor. For a moment, he thought he heard something. It it's all silent now. The air is deadly still, no vibrations ...

Again! Here it is; now it is unmistakable. Very distant, very low, very quiet sobbing. Barely audible, and ... slow? Flan blinked. The sound reminded him of quiet sobbing, being recorded and then played in slow motion. But is this really the case, or is the sound simply too faint for him to distinguish whether is it slow or ... well, sobbing at a normal pace. However, much to Flan's suprise, it did not come from above, wher he assumed his colleagues are, but from somewhere ahead of him.

"Yosh, let's save the day ... hm, let's save the night."

What ushered Flan that night to foolishly walk into the darkness, he will never know. Any assassin, no matter if of high or low rank, knew you do not go straight into the enemy's territory alone, if you do not know who the enemy is or what his powers are. Even professional murderers who worked alone used informants or paid double-agents to gather information and analyze the area and threats. What Flan was now doing was even worse than foolish - for he had not only had no knowledge of enemy's identity and powers, he knew _nothing_ about the current situation. For someone with such high intellect he was considered a genious, who is one of the three most cunning and powerful magicians and in position of being the officer in the most renowed assassination squad in the whole wide world, he was doing something incredibly stupid and unheard of.

Flan knew, he understood what he was doing. And yet, he walked on. He was not completely sure why, something inside was telling him to follow the sound, something, as crazy as it sounds, was telling him the noise is _familiar_. That he _recognizes_ it.

Illusionist started to walk faster; sobbing became a little louder and now it was clear someone cried in a very, very low voice and very, very slowly. Cold sweat broke out on Flan's temples. The sobbing is horrible. It is creepy. Slow, low moaning. Male or female? He couldn't tell.

Finally, he stopped in front of a tall, old door - door that leads to the kitchen. Low, steady moans and cries came from inside. They were so slow. Flan has never heard anything like it. He isn't afraid, no, but suffocating anxiety slowly made its way up his torso, then throat, until it finally became a pulsing headache. Horrorfying. Thick, unnatural silence, filled with slow motion moans that formed no language only low sounds of someone crying. Someone without a tongue.

In spite of himself, his heart skipped a beat and started to beat quicker. No, he must not think like that. Bel-senpai would die from laugher if he knew how shaken up he is right now. Speaking of prince, is this a joke? Maybe senpai wants to scare him. And the worst part is, he's doing a good job.

Deciding this is only a sick trick, Flan opened the door and entered the kitchen with newfound courage and determination.

"Haa-aah!"

Quiet yelp of frustration and panic escaped illusionist's lips. Headache pulsed violently, painfully, making him sweat under the frog hat. He tried to swallow but failed; his mouth is dry.

Silence, deafening, unnatural silence streched like a heavy, eerie curtain thrown over him. The sobbing had stopped the second he opened the door. Someone is here, he feels the presence. But the kitchen is empty.

**~UNSEEN~**

"Boss could have _died_!" Squalo screamed at the top of his lungs, making Leviathan, who was already pale and nauseous, break out in sweat and continuous nervous shivers. It is a damn exaggeration! Xanxus could very well be thrown in a pit filled with every high-trained assassin and ninja in the world, and would casually get out of it after ten minutes.

However, strategy captain is angry, no, fucking mad, that this awful clumsy trunk had not woken up on time. Useless piece of shit! So Squalo screamed at him, using Levi's blind loyalty to make him feel worse about himself, while white-haired man was grinning on the inside, enjoying the humiliation his colleague is going through. Thunder man looked so pathetic. He really did seem like he was about to cry. Apologizing again and again to the back of a large, cushioned chair, in which Varia's boss was now sitting, he got more and more depressed and desperate - Xanxus didn't pay him any attention, causing Squalo to feel free to abuse Levi, mentally and physically.

Varia officers had gathered in a meeting room not far from Xanxus's room. The situation is so odd, their priority is to establish a good picture of what has happened and of what they assume is going on. But right now, Leviathan is in the center of attention and Varia captain is glad he has someone to take out his confusion and anger on.

Belphegor would normally laugh at this, giving Squalo some of his own ideas what to do with Levi, but prince has not said a word since they left the boss's room. _No one saw ... except for Xanxus_. While his body calmed down and he was beginning to feel better, it was now a single emotion that made him pale and restless - fear.

For Bel had seen it. He saw it in that blinding fog. He had saw what Xanxus had seen. What Xanxus did not shoot, despite it being right in front of the gun. Boss didn't shoot. He saw ... boss did _not_ _want_ to shoot. Now boss is avoiding everyone even more than usual. Oh, prince knows, prince knows very well he had seen what he was not suppose to see.

Slowly, with an annoying creaking sound, the door had opened. Squalo, taking a deep breath to lay some more insults on shaking Levi, paused and looket at the door. Lussuria, quietly leaning on the wall did the same with a small smile.

"Here's our Flan-chan!"

Without a word, Flan closed the door, showing his back to the Varia. Then, in slow, almost lifeless movement, illusionist turned and faced them. Strategy captain just barely managed to refrain from letting out a gasp, like Lussuria and Leviathan loudly did. Belphegor was the only one who remained unconcerned - beside Xanxus, who was deep in thought in his chair, ignoring his subordinates - prince's sick mind and twisted personality did not understand why officers around him were so taken aback.

Flan stood there, silent, still. His movements were slow and mechanic. But what caused three grow-up men to stare breathlessly at him are his eyes.

They are bloodshot. Crimson veins dirtied entire scleras; they are not white anymore, rather reddish-pink instead, numerous smaller and bigger veins crawling towards the center of the eye. Flan's limbus became thick and dark red. Once teal green iris is now unpleasantly red. Pupils are unnaturaly dilated and of terrible dark red colour; so dark, it borders on black.

What threw Squalo off most is that Flan's eyes are open very widely, he was sure they were open to their limits; it's like someone would completely remove the eyelids from his eyes. And green-haired teen did not blink. All the while he was standing there, staring at strategy captain, he did not blink.

Quickly regaining his composure, Squalo yelled again. "Where the fuck have you been? And what's wrong with your eyes? You look like someone pissed on you!"

The proud okama behind him giggled. "Now, now Squ, he's probably still sleepy."

Flan stared. Silent. Unblinking.

"Hurry and sit down, you're pissing me off! Snot-nosed punk! We have a meeting to conduct!"

"Yes, captain."

Illusionist's voice was low, somewhat agitated and lifeless. Slowly, very slowly, he turned and walked to the nearest chair, sitting down. Staring at Squalo. Unblinking.

Away from them, in a corner next to the recently lit fireplace, Xanxus sat in silence, eyes closed. His breathing was calm and even; despite of what he had just discovered. Yes, Xanxus knew. Xanxus sensed it. Sensed it right before his illusionist opened the door. But if others - especially stupid shark, who was supposed to be the perceptive one - were brainless enough to brush it off as 'he's still sleepy, those are sleepy eyes', then they deserve what he already knew will happen.

* * *

**Please review! :)**

**And if your favourite character dies ... remember this story already has a sequel planned. Don't feel bad but wait and read ... maybe you'll be very suprised :)**


	3. Deformography

**I am really sorry to not update sooner. Please forgive me. Thank you for reviews! They give me the strenght to keep writing this :)**

* * *

"So what do we have?" Squalo, hands on his hips, looked agressively at his colleagues. He didn't bother with the boss, who was now sleeping in his chair, turned away from all of them; swordsman could tell it was so, because Xanxus's lips were slightly parted and he was on the verge of snoring.

"Mansion lockdown in the middle of the night," immediately answered Levi, eyes glued to the ground in sincere display of shame. Insults Squalo had thrown at him, together with various scenarios what could have happened to boss, burned inside of him - a gaping wound in his pride.

"Cold wind tha-"

"I don't care about temperature swings!" Captain cut off Lussuria, who pouted and walked closer to him. "Maaa, will you listen to me Squ? I'm trying to warn you! Bel-chan ..."

The prince snapped from his thoughts and gritted his teeth in a small attempt to let okama know he does not appreciate the affectionate way of calling him, after all these years _still_.

"... said that something inside the wind grabbed him and," Lussuria's voice became a little quieter, as if he was unsure how to deliver such crazy news, "it had spoken ... in french." There was quite a confused silence for a moment, before Squalo waved his hand dismissively. A wind has spoken in french, yes, _of course_. For fuck's sake, they have a serious situation here and this pervert can't distinguish when it was appropriate to tell them of the delusions that blond asshole had when his head hit the ground - for Squalo was certain it was only a delusion caused by brain damage - because this was _not_ the time and place to laugh about it. He'll have much fun with it later, though.

"The mechanism itself is a real mystery. It would require two keys and eye identification before ..."

Curled up on the couch, hugging his knees like a child (for he had momentarily completely forgotten of his new status as an adult), Belphegor carefully observed the back of the grand chair Xanxus was sleeping in behind the safe sanctuary his light bangs provided. Dry blood on his shirt lost its sharp smell, his stomach had already calmed down, and the only physical aftermath of his intriguing flight from the ceiling to the floor was a small headache beating on the left side of his head.

Should he tell the noisy strategy captain what he saw in Xanxus's room? But boss himself had not open his mouth once. Bel swallowed down hard and discovered there is still unpleasant taste of blood in his mouth. It wouldn't bother him at all if he hadn't saw how boss, upon seeing that face in the fog _refused_ to shoot it. His arm shook ever so slightly, and finger on the trigger, that was tense just a second ago, slipped down. Why didn't Xanxus shoot? Did he recognised the face in the fog? Belphegor didn't. He had never saw it before and his memory was excellent. Well, almost excellent. It mysteriously faltered whenever Squalo would order him to do some chores - chores that somehow always ended up on the shoulders of so-called baby officers. He used to get punished when he forgot them, but luckily Flan was now here to abuse as the youngest member, and to say Bel took full adventage of that would be an understatement.

The prince glanced at white haired man, who was opening his mouth furiously, talking quickly, but he didn't hear what he was saying, because he had drowned him out. Believe it or not, it was easy to drown Superbia Squalo out when you spend some time with him, and after all these years it was a child's play. Belphegor's eyes once again settled on the back of Xanxus's chair.

It was a woman. Bel barely saw the lines of her shoulders, but her face was clearly visible. She came out of the fog like ... like ... a _ghost_. But ghosts don't exist, and whatever she was, she left a big impression on the boss. It seemed she had long hair tied at the back, it was dark, and a few stray hairs fell on her pale face; a very unhealthy colour. Some sort of brown hood was over her head, and lines of exhaustion adorned her features. It was impossible to guess her age, and that tired expression only made her seem older than she was. Maybe somewhere between mid-thirties, but she could very well be in her late fourties.

In that split second, that short moment she had appeared, she smiled at Xanxus, whose eyes widened and finger immediately slipped off the trigger. Bel shifted his legs into more comfortable position. There was something he was missing. He had a feeling he should make a conclusion, like the answer is right before his eyes but he can't see it. Though he had never seen her before, something inside of him kept telling him he should still realize who she is. After all, contrary to the popular belief, Xanxus didn't go around fucking women. Boss kept to himself in his darkened world, in his darkened mansion, in his room where curtains were pulled over the windows to make to room dark. Ah, he was made out of flesh, yes, but he rarely spoke to women and even more rarely turn his head after them. Belphegor saw him doing that only twice so far ... chances are, Squalo had seen him do so more often, but that was about it. How he relieved himself when ''the tension got too high'', well ... the Varia just didn't think about that.

And because it was like this that the prince felt very angry with himself - there is such a small number of women Xanxus has ever been in contact with that he really should know who she is. Especially since it was painfully obvious boss had recognised her, more so, he refused to hurt her. If Bel wouldn't know his boss so well, he might have thought he didn't shoot because he was shocked, but Xanxus doesn't make such mistakes. It was so very unlike him to pull back from violence, and it made prince agitated he, a genious, a _genious_, could not figure out what was going on. Not with this woman, not with the cold wind, not with mansion lockdown. He had absolutely no idea, not the faintest idea. He was so angry. So, so angry.

"_Vooooiiiii! Are you listening to me?_" Squalo screamed like mad all of the sudden, hitting his fist, upon which his precious sword was tied, sideways into the wall, making Bel snap out of his trance.

"Yes, Squ, yes, we are!" Looking around, Belphegor saw Lussuria's words couldn't be farther from the truth; Levi was wallowing in self-pity, Flan stared into nothingness, there were quiet snoring sounds coming from Xanxus' chair and Lussuria was correcting his hair in a mirror that hung on the wall.

"Fuck you bastards! I'm off!"

Lussuria gave a high-pitched scream, turning away from the mirror. Squalo, Leviathan and Belphegor gritted their teeth upon this irritating yelp, and boss stopped snoring.

"Squ, don't go! Where are you going anyway? It's too dangerous out there! We don't know what's going on! Don't go, don't go!" Okama throw himself over the swordsman like a desperate wife who just got told by her husband he's leaving her. Thinking quickly, Squalo captured Lussuria's face in a hand, keeping the moaning man away from him as far as his arm would allow it.

"Shut up! I'm going to reverse the lockdown! You," he looked around his colleagues again, "stay here until I return. Then we'll search the mansion. I already explained this! Wasn't anyone listening?"

Without waiting for an answer, he gripped Lussuria's face and shoved him away, then stormed out of the room, slamming the doors so quickly, a few of his long, elegant white hair almost got stuck in it.

"Maaaa, that naughty swordsman! What does he think he's doing?" Varia's Sun guardian rubbed his cheeks and nose gently. "The whole reason for this mechanism is to keep intruders _in_. If he's going to unlock it, they will have an exit, won't they? Where's the logic in that? Oh, Squ!"

Leviathan, feeling braver since Varia captain left the room, dared to look up. "I imagine he also explained the reason for his actions ..." He still had no courage to add _but I wasn't listenting_.

Without any sound at all, Varia boss stood up, turned and his eyes, the colour of dry blood, stared straight in Bel's. Immediately, the prince felt how blood was drained from his face and nervous shivers spread through his body, making his hands shake. As Xanxus kept staring at him, his face unreadable, cold sweat broke on prince's forehead. But ... but ... he didn't say anything. Why is boss looking at him like that? He didn't tell noisy captain anything. Belphegor did not wonder how Xanxus even knew he had saw that woman. It was one of those facts about boss - he just _knew_ things. For someone so indifferent about his subordinates, Xanxus somehow knew every personal and professional detail about all his officers. Intimacy and privacy did not apply when you worked under Xanxus; that man heard everything, saw everything, sensed everything, knew everything. However, boss had one good habit people keep overlooking because they don't see past his frightening persona - boss accepted everyone the way they are and let them do their own thing. Yes, for someone who knows every intimate detail about his officers, Xanxus was very nonchalant about it and never spoke of it either.

Black haired man broke the unpleasant eye contact - Bel couldn't control himself and let out a very loud sigh of relief - and like Squalo before him, started to walk towards the door.

"Boss! Where are-"

"Boss, where are you going?"

Levi quickly stepped forward and interrupted Lussuria. Not bothering to look at any of them, Xanxus grudgingly replied in his deep voice, a little hoarse because of his frequent drinking.

"... to my office."

Lussuria opened his mouth, then closed it like a fish. Ah, it was pointless to ask him why, he wouldn't answer anyway. And if he would, he'd probably snap back something like _none of your business!_ or _shut up!_ and it would be a shame to make him irritated when it's so rare that he's not.

"I'll go with you, boss," offered Levi very seriously. "I'll make sure you're safe and that you have all you need." His voice became quieter at the end, as if he was unsure. When Xanxus said nothing and walked on, Levi too, let out a loud sigh of relief and followed his boss out. As soon as the door closed, Lussuria sat down and crossed his legs.

"I guess we'll wait here for Squ ..."

_I guess_, thought Bel, happy because Xanxus seemed to be satisfied with him. Again, he forgot his role as an adult and felt like he was a good little boy, whose mama just praised him for not eating the dessert before dinner.

**~UNSEEN~**

Why did he even bother? Fuck, without him, this assassination squad would just fall to pieces! Superbia Squalo swooshed down the dark corridor like a fast wind. No one listens, why the hell no one ever listens? But who cares. The most important thing right now is to unlock the mansion, and he has to do it as soon as possible. Someone put the mansion in emergency lockdown, which only means this enemy felt like they have an adventage if Varia is locked in. He must take away this advantage! Then find the scumbag who is behind all this. Whether it's a man, a woman or a child, they will find no mercy here.

Running down the stairs, he fell deeper in his thoughts. Someone was screwing with them. Fog, screams, words scratched on the wood ... _bah_, it all seemed like a bad horror movie. Please, they are _assassination_ squad. It'll take a lot more to get them to feel uncomfortable, and fear was practically a non-existent emotion among them.

As childish as these scare tactics seemed to Squalo, he was very concerned about the lockdown, for it was impossible for anyone to do so without him.

It was about five or six years since Xanxus has been frozen. Lussuria came to him with an idea he got from watching a documentary about Louvre museum - if there was anyone in Varia who showed the slightest interest in documentaries, it was Lussuria, who also, much to everyone elses' annoyance, cited Animal Planet as his favourite channel, causing Levi, Squalo, Bel, Flan and in the old days Mammon too, to know far too much about proper ways to take care of kittens that they would want to know - and proposed this defense system. They quietly agreed on it, not telling lowest ranking subordinates or even other officers about it. At that time, their professional bond, knitted by the necessary trust they needed to have in each other, was wearing thin. How did the news of Xanxus's attempted coup d'etat came to Vongola Nono's ears, if not by someone _inside_ the Varia?

Years later, they smoked out the guilty one, former vice-captain of the Varia, Ottabio. Xanxus burned him to a crisp and Ottabio's followers were either massacred or taken in for questioning, but at that time, distrust was poisoning minds and hearts of everyone, threateing to shake and destroy the very foundations of once strong assassin organization.

So he and Lussuria moved on their own to build in this new defense mechanism, and somewhere in the middle of the process, Levi find out about it too, if only by accident. When Xanxus unfroze and burned Ottabio for his treachery on the island Mare Diabolo, Squalo informed him of the emergency mechanism. Xanxus took original keys, gave copies to Squalo and, with boss's permission, swordsman continued to be the only one with a password.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Squalo ran down another long, darkened hallway. Who knew about it besides him? Lussuria, but he would never tell anyone. Leviathan ... he might let something slip when he was drunk, but he doubted that. Bel didn't know. Flan didn't know. That little runt Mammon didn't know. Ottabio is dead and workers who build in the mechanism were ''dealt with'' too.

Thoughtfully, he observed the jail-like shadows the bars were casting on the wall as he ran past. Xanxus can be automatically ruled out. There was next to no chance boss would even talk to anyone outside Varia, let alone conversed about security measures. Besides, Xanxus was not stupid. What was stupid was to even consider him a suspect.

Suddenly, Squalo stopped dead in his tracks. His grey eyes stared intensely before him into the darkness. Clouds swept over the moon, the silver light was gone. White haired man had sensed it, and turned around just a moment before the voice behind his back spoke.

"Well, I think in situations like this it's appropriate to say: long time no see."

Though the darkness rendered him unable to see, even with his enhanced Varia quality senses, the slow, deep voice raised red flags in his head.

He knows this voice. Knows it all too well. But ... no, no ... it's impossible. Impossible. Impossible.

A drop of cold sweat traced down swordsman's cheek. While he stared into pitch black void in front of him, his heart began pounding out of control. Impossible ... the last time he heard this voice was years ago, many years ago. The very last time he heard it, very last time ... was right before he killed him.

"Is that how you great your old boss, Superbia? With silence and scared heartbeats? Ha ha ha ha ha!" The laugh was slow, loud, and somewhat animalistic, like it would come from a human being with a snout instead of a mouth. "The way I remember you, you usually had _a lot_ to say."

Yes ... former Varia boss, Tyr. A real beast of a man. Large, broad shoulders and muscular neck. Squalo had fought him for two days and a night, before he killed him, ready to claim his throne as the new boss of Vongloa assassination squad. Terrifying man who ruled with no left arm ... causing the teenage Squalo to cut off his hand too. Equality in battle? Perhaps. He had said it was to ''understand how Tyr felt'', and it was an action of pride. But ...

"And it was _irrrrritating_," Tyr continued with his monologue, stretching the letter r like a growling animal.

Squalo's heart beat violently against his chest, it was painful and made his breathing a little harder. But ...

But ...

But Tyr was _dead_! Dead! He-he knows! He checked! He even cut off his head to make sure!

Swordsman's right palm clenched into a fist. Get a grip on yourself! Some asshole is messing with you and you just gave in! Ha! Of course Tyr is dead. He knows so. Someone is copying the voice of the deceased Varia boss, and doing a very poor job too - the voice is barely understandable because of slurred words and animal sounds. It could be anyone in that darkness ... fucking scumbag! He caught him off guard, but that _will not_ happen again.

Squalo's heart began to beat at more mellow pace, and he stopped sweating.

"_Vooooiiiiiii_! You think you can shock me by using that bastard's voice? _Haaa_? Delusional fuckhead! Don't screw with me, you have no idea what you're up against."

White haired man's voice now became just a little quieter, filled with anticipation, and somewhat alluring, as he smirked. Superbia Squalo was his old self again, getting ready to attack and murder his prey.

"Night night, fucktard!"

Squalo lunged forward into darkness, quickly calculating where the bastard's heart is and swung his sword. It jabbed into soft flesh. Something warm came running down his hand, and he stabbed further, between the ribbs.

"Fucking idiot!"

He smirked and breathed in sharp smell of fresh blood. A group of clouds passed the moon, and the hallway was momentarily graced with silvery light again.

It all happened at once.

Squalo opened his mouth in shock.

Tyr opened his beast-like mouth and stick his horrifying teeth, sharp and vertical like thousand needles into Squalo's mouth, piercing swordsman's tongue before pulling it, tearing it out of his mouth.

Squalo screamed and choked on his blood.

Tyr pulled his head back, chewed on white haired man's tongue, blood running in small streams down chin, before he swallowed it and grinned.

Clouds hid the moon, plunging the hallway into darkness once more.

The moment light shone on Tyr's face, Squalo's mind went completely blank. Not only was Varia's former boss standing before him, alive, while the sword was piercing his heart, but he was drastically changed. His eyes were two black bottomless pits, moonlight was not reflected in them, though it shone right in his face. Skin was worse than pale; it was white like wax of a wedding candle. But his mouth ... in his mouth were thousands of teeth, all vertical, sharp as needles.

Squalo was not given a second to take in all the details and ponder over hundred questions - _how can Tyr be alive? Why is he still able to live with a sword through his chest? What's wrong with his mouth? His eyes?_ - with his tongue torn out, his body was violently shaking in painful cramps, hot blood pouring down his chin onto his chest. He had unwillingly swallowed a lot of it down, choking, coughing.

Tyr grabbed him by the shoulders, as swordsman shook in his hands like a puppet.

"It makes me so happy to see you calmed down, having nothing more to say, Superbia. It's nice to see you after so many years. I missed you." His right hand gripped white haired man's left shoulder. "I thought you cut off your arm for me? This gesture seemed so sweet back then. Let's relive those days, you and me."

Moonlight graced them again. Horrible ripping sounds filled the air, Squalo let out an incoherent yell, swallowing large chunks of blood which only caused him to shook and cough more, as Tyr, fingernails digging into Squalo's flesh, twisted and ripped swordsman's left arm from his shoulder.

Varia's rain guardian fell on the floor. Tyr, glancing down at a dismembered arm sticking from his chest, pulled it out and cast it aside. On the floor, Squalo was lying in a pool of blood that was rapidly expanding. His body shook even more violently. Blood still poured from his mouth. Despite the moonlight, he couldn't see anything, for the hallway, Tyr ... everything was spinning. Loss of blood was weakening him, but he didn't sense any of that. At the moment, world was nothing but a spinning mess, red and black, red and black ... pain ... painful ... why ... how ...

"Ooooooh?" Tyr kneeled down and gently took a few strainds of white hair in his palm. Majority of Squalo's hair was drenched in blood and sweat. Tyr smiled almost affectionately. "How pretty. Very pretty Superbia, I must admit. But ... if I were your boss, I wouldn't allow you to grow your hair like that."

His hand gripped the strainds of white hair. Weakly, Squalo moved on the floor. He had closed his eyes, because constant spinning was making him terribly sick. He had heard what Tyr had said, but between pain throbbing in his mouth and shoulder and blood gushing in and out, threatening to either choke him or kill him from the loss of it, he could not put the words together and understand what former Varia boss had said.

"Let's fix that," Tyr whispered, excited.

Swordsman faintly felt a heat somewhere around his waist. Suddenly, distinctive smell of burned proteins reached his nose. Without realising what this means, his instincts already took control and he jumped on his feet, adrenaline drowning out most of his pain from lost arm and tongue.

His long, beautiful hair was on fire. Screaming, spraying blood from his mouth around him, he ran into walls and ironed windows, unable to run straight as everything was still spinning. Hot, desperate tears fell in streams down his cheeks, joining with blood on his chin and neck, as he tried to put out the fire with one hand. But fire was spreading unnaturally fast; by now it reached his head. Choking on blood and tears, he hit a wall again, leaving bloody shadow behind him, as he screamed, screamed, screamed. The back of his neck was on fire, his skin burned out. Desperately, he scratched at the raw meat on his neck.

Tyr laughed, each attempt Squalo made to escape the pain cause another merry laugh to erupt from him.

Fire now adorned swordsman's head like a tortuous orange and red crown. With one last swing of the arm, he had managed to put the fire out. Leaning on the wall, he slided down, shaking. Skin on his head and neck was gone. Raw white and red meat, oozing with blood, replaced it. All he could smell were burned proteins.

"_Ghhaargghh_ ..."

His stomach couldn't take it anymore, and with much force, he threw up in his mouth, down his chin, onto his dirtied uniform. Tyr came closer and once again kneeled down. He watched Squalo's body make violent shakes; he was coughing hard, now he had to prevent himself from choking on not only blood but vomit, too.

"No, no, Superbia," former Varia boss whispered, "it pains me to see you so humiliated. You must have completely let go of your pride, if you're crying. I've never seen you cry before. Did Xanxus ever saw you? No, let me make sure you'll never be so humiliated again - you'll never cry again, Superbia, don't you worry."

Squalo lifted his head only a little. He could not understand anything his tormentor had said, but somewhere among his spinning, bloody world, where there was nothing but tears and stench of vomit, he thought he had heard his boss's name. Something inside of him stirred, fear. Fear. But not for himself. Not ... anymore ...

Menacing shadow fell on Squalo's face, as Tyr leaned closer. With a growling, animal sound, he opened his jaw to the limit. And bit Squalo's eyes.

Swordsman tried to scream again, but blood and vomit immediately ran down his throat. Thousand needle-like teeth pierced through his eyes. Tyr growled, satisfied, and stood up, plucking Squalo's eyes out of their sockets. Fresh blood stained Varia's captain cheeks, dripping from black, empty eye sockets like bloody tears.

His tormentor smiled widely, two eyeballs stuck in his teeth, bloody veins still attached to them. He chewed on the eyes, slurping in the long veins.

Superbia Squalo, drowning in sweat, blood, vomit and what was left of his tears, drifted in and out of consciousness, for his body could not take the extreme pain, yet his well trained body of an assassin who is constantly alert kept waking him up.

Tyr kneeled back down and gripped swordsman's chin, digging fingernails into his skin. "You got what you deserved. Varia will get what they deserve. You call yourselves assassins with demonic powers? How absurd. But here's news for you. Devils have heard of you. Hell is empty, Superbia. We're all up here."

Superbia Squalo's body burst in flames. He almost welcomed it. No pain in death. If he'd still have eyes, he'd close them. And cry.

* * *

**Ottabio is official KHR character, and everything I wrote about him, and island Mare Diablo, is true. I imagine most of you already know this, but in case someone doesn't, search on Google for ''Reborn Wiki Secret Bullets''. Secret bullets are official Reborn novels, and one of them tells a story of what happened when Xanxus was unfrozen and how he discovered a man who had betrayed him. This novel is called ''X-fiamma''.**

**Ah ... reviews would be really nice :)**


	4. Cake and Sodomy

**Thank you for reviews! :)**

* * *

He was smelly, he was agitated, he was impatient, he couldn't solve any of the current mysteries bothering him, so Bel stood up and did what he did best - whined like a spoiled child.

"Where is the captain? How long will he make us wait? It's annoying. Why are the bars not lowered yet? What's he doing? Why are we here? We're not babies, we can take care of ourselves. It's irritating. I'm hungry. I'm angry. Where is he?" He wanted to get out of these clothes, which were embarrassing proof of his defeat, take a shower and dwell in his room like a deadly shadow to think things through. Wasn't he a genious? Imagine the look on other's faces if he'd solve _everything_. Prince caught his reflection in the mirror on the wall, and gave himself a grin. It was a question of pride now. Since that toad joined, he had heard he was considered a genious too. Isn't it about time he shows them there can only be one true genious? No one will compare him with _that_ - he glanced at Flan's unmoving form on the couch - but he knew very well he'll have to _work_, he shuddered inside, for his status as the number one genious in Varia to stay untouched.

"Calm down, Bel-chan," said Lussuria, still sitting on a sofa, however with a very tenuous voice. He was worried, very worried. It may not have been a good idea to let Squalo go alone after all. What if he was in trouble and no one is around to help him? Okama continued to stare at the door, as he did for the past twenty minutes. If something was happening, he would hear it, they all would, wouldn't they? And sensed it too. Maybe Squalo forgot the password? Really, that naughty, naughty man!

Belphegor came into Lussuria's view, reaching for the door knob, action which violently snapped Varia's Sun guardian out of his thoughts.

"What are you doing?" This time, distress and concern were dominating his voice; despite the way Varia treated each other, Bel will always be a little baby (who needed their odd, barbaric form of guidance from time to time) to them. A fact that was not wise to hint at in front of the so-called baby himself.

"I'm going to take care of this situation," _and shower, I need to shower, change my uniform, grab some chocolate, maybe a hot cocoa too_, "and then report to the boss." The prince smirked, imagining Levi's face when Xanxus will say _good job, Bel_ and misunderstood Lussuria's worry as concern over Squalo.

Varia's Sun guardian was uncertain about this - should he stop Bel? Go with him? - but knew any logical reasoning would fall on deaf ears when it came to Belphegor, especially when he's being stubborn and whiny like this.

"Alright," okama gave in, although still very worried, "but Bel-chan, you have to realise this is a serious situation! I shouldn't need to remind you of that, ne, ne?" Lussuria nodded towards the big, bloody stain on the front of prince's uniform, causing Bel's smirk to dissapear.

"This means you go do your job straight away, no taking adventage of the situation and sneaking in the kitchen to steal some chocolate!"

A vein popped on prince's face immediately. "I wasn't going to!"

"There is only a limited amount of money boss is willing to spend on sweets, and Squ almost killed you the last time ..."

But Belphegor already slammed the door loudly. Lussuria sighed. "That boy ..."

Seconds later, Flan silently slided to the door. Lussuria barely opened his mouth, when illusionist looked him straight in the eyes. The boys' eyes were still bloodshot and open wide, like eyelids would be stuck. He didn't blink. Slowly, in somewhat mechanical movement, Flan raised his hand to his face. Illusionist's lips formed a small smile, while he placed his index finger in front of them, a signal to Varia's Sun guardian to stay quiet. Without blinking, he stared with his dark red eyes at okama, walking through the door backwards before closing it.

Lussuria swallowed. A single drop of sweat came down his forehead, onto his nose. Something ... was ... very wrong here. Very, very wrong. Why didn't he noticed it before? Flan was ... Flan is ...

His hand gripped the arm of the couch he was sitting in. Squ, where is Squ?

**~UNSEEN~**

Leviathan wondered what was wrong. Xanxus seemed to be bothered by something and he didn't know what. A while ago, boss suddenly turned around. Levi, who was walking behind him, thought he'll look at him, but Xanxus stared behind the lightning man, into the darkness faintly illuminated by moonlight. He repeated this twice, each time more angrily. When Levi asked him what was wrong, boss didn't reply, but dormant scars he had received after the cradle affair started to slowly spread across his face; Xanxus was very angry, but ... why?

"_Useless piece of shit_!"

Leviathan jumped a little when his boss yelled out of the blue.

"Boss! What ..."

"Squalo."

"Boss ...?"

"_Go find that shitty shark_!"

Levi ran down the darkened corridor, Xanxus's scream full of rage still echoing behind him.

**~UNSEEN~**

"Aaah!" Lussuria let out startled scream when the lights suddenly went out in the room. Despite the darkness surrounding him, he calmed down almost immediately. Oh, it was just his nerves acting up! He stood up and used his Varia quality eyesight to navigate through the darkness to the window. Gripping the curtains, he pulled them apart, and silvery light beamed into the room.

It was a beautiful night outside, the sight of full moon and dark trees sleepily moving in the breeze made everything look less confusing. If only the others would take the time to enjoy nature like this too! Maybe boss wouldn't be so tense then ...

"... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ..."

Quiet whisper reached his ears and Lussuria spun around, shocked, alert, but ready to fight. He just raised his fists in front of his face, when the sight before him made him gasp.

Man after man stood, sat or kneeled inside. The room was so packed, it seemed unbelievable this wasn't an illusion or carefully planned optical trick. Men were topless; those in the moonlight had large black bruises over their torso and open bleeding wounds on various places over the body, those hidden in the darkest part of the room remained nothing but black human silhouettes.

Lussuria's heart raced. He began to sweat. He knows that one ... and him too ... him too ... he knows everyone ... they are ... his beautiful collection of corpses! Beautiful men he killed in all his years of serving under Xanxus! How, oh _how_ is this possible?

A drop of sweat tickled his upper lip. He slowly wiped it away with his fingers, not daring to make any sudden movements. His precious collection was supposed to be underground, safely tucked into hard wooden coffins with velvet pillows inside.

"_My_! How is ... what are you all ... I ..." Starting with his usual feminine voice, he finished in a rather manly and silent one, suddenly finding himself at the loss of words. So many questions circled around in his head, but he was unable to connect them reasonably.

It only now dawned on Lussuria the men were murmuring something. No, not murmuring - he strained his ears - they were chanting. He exhaled shakily; the sound was quiet, slow, and creepy. If there would be candles lit in the room, he'd have a feeling he's in the middle of a satanic ritual.

"... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ..."

Frightful concerto of men moved forward; those kneeling and sitting stood up, those in the darkness were exposed to the light of the moon. Varia's Sun guardian tentatively took a step back, but hit the window. The men did not stop, they slowly creeped closer to Lussuria, and even though they did not make any threatening movements - _yet_, he nervously thought - their whole persona reeked of evil.

"... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ..."

When they were only two steps away, he straightened up. Before he jumped forward, already in the pose he was familiar with (right fist forward, left arm behind, right leg in outstretched kick, left used as balance), he vaguely saw the faces of his once beautiful collection. Their eyes were settled deep into the skull, and seem lowered, like they were melting down on their cheeks. Something briefly shined inside their mouths.

The horror of their deformed faces confused him for a split second, unfortunately that was all it took for them take him down. In mid-air attack, their greedy hands - good God, were those overgrown nails or thin claws sticking out of their fingers? - flew up, each grabbing either his uniform or his leg, arm, waist, neck, and held onto him like a dying man holds onto life.

"... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ..."

Lussuria was dragged down and crashed on the floor, knocking air out of his lungs. The men towered over him; it almost looked like they absorbed the silvery light for he was not able to see anything but darkness, occasionally a glimpse of those wax-like eyes and something sharp in their mouths, like two needles.

Men held him down by his wrists and ankles, singing their cursed chant.

"Stop! Help! Anyone! Squ! Squ! Squalo! Boss! Bel-chan! _Someone_!" A slim, unnaturally cold palm swept over his mouth, turning his cries for help into muffled moans of desperation. As he breathed in, his panic deepened - the hand smelled of wet soil, decomposed grass and old blood. A scent of death.

"... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ... _bellezza_ ... _transformazione_ ..."

Suddenly, cold hands with sharp fingernails grabbed his uniform and began to tore it off. There shouldn't be more than around sixty men here, but Lussuria felt like thousand hands were ripping off his clothes. They didn't stop until he was completely naked; he shivered against the cold floor and, never losing hope, continued to yell, only to be silenced by another wax hand.

Something briefly flickered in his mind like a light of sudden realisation, but was drowned in the panic and adrenaline. He twitched and jerked, trying to free himself of their iron grip, when the light in his mind flickered again - and this time, he grasped what was unconsciously bothering him. His heart never raced so fast and he shivered uncontrollably, as his heated sweat made the floor all the more cold against his skin. Their chant had changed.

" ... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino _..."

Words cannot describe what deep-settled horror and despair rose in Varia's Sun guardian when a new, harsh scent swimmed through the air. His stomach was in knots and he had to swallow down hard a few times to prevent himself from vomiting out of pure fear. His body swinged from hot to cold, and two small tears made their way down his temples, between his shaved sides onto the floor. Vision of hope and rescue vanished into thin air, and he felt this almost as a physical pain. After these first reluctant little tears, more strated to pour, as he simply couldn't stop himself anymore; he knew what would happen.

The new scent that now poisoned the air was sulfuric acid.

" ... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino _..."

In quiet, uncharacteristic voice, he pleaded; but they were small, empty pleads, for he had already gave in and accepted his faith.

"Please ... no ... _please_ ..."

When his voice broke, the circle of dark wax monsters backed off, if only a little, still holding him down mercilessly. Lussuria saw middle-sized glass containers, with a transparent liquid inside, in the hands of some of them. Smoke was rising from them like a black snake. He had closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, the taste of tears in his mouth. His hands clenched in fists in a hasty attempt to prepare himself mentally for extreme pain; he knew what was about to happen.

For a second, this all seemed like a nightmare after which he'll wake up drenched in sweat, but alive, shaking from fright, but unharmed. He'll tiptoe to the kitchen, warm himself a cup of milk, and take a piece of Bel-chan's chocolate to calm himself down. He will think about what to make for breakfast, what would boss like on a Thursday morning?

But the second of last, carefree thoughts has passed all too quickly. Men tilted the glass containers, and every muscle, cell and vein in Lussuria's body tensed up like never before - trying to force the mind to wake up, although he knew very well this wasn't a dream.

Sulfuric acid poured on multiple places on his legs began to react immediately. The horrible scream Lussuria let out could barely be described as human, for no amount of mental preparation can prepare you for scorching pain when acid eats into your flesh. This time, no one bothered to cover his mouth. Smoke evapored from his legs as he screamed, cried and twisted and turned in their deathly grip, but could not escape his torture.

Acid sizzled on his legs, which were now reduced to a dark red and white pile of flesh. The suffocating stench of chemicals filled the entire room and together with inhuman screams formed a scene too bizzare to too exist, too horrifying to comprehend.

" ... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino _..."

Men tilted the containers a little more. Liquid, with a sharp sizzling sound, ate into Lussuria's raw meat, eradicating it, deeper, deeper, until white parts of bones began to show. Slowly, the meat on his legs was exterminated, leaving nothing but bare bones; a sight so gruesome no one should ever see, a sadism so vile no one should ever suffer at the hands of it.

" ... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino_ ... _bello burattino _... _bello burattino _..."

Men began grabbing his bones, pulling them in various directions, bending them until they broke multiple times, until finally, what was left of his skeleton legs was torn off of his hips. Lussuria lost consciousness a while ago; it was the only mercy he was graced with. He won't feel any pain anymore when his beautiful collection of corpses shall move on and begin to pour the sulfuric poison on his torso, neck, arms and finally head. His last thoughts among tears and chemical stench were circling around who will make breakfast for Varia tomorrow morning instead of him. He tried to hold onto something normal to the very end.

**~UNSEEN~**

Leviathan was running as fast as he could, yet by the time he reached the corridor downstairs, nothing but moonlight and silence greeted him. Slowing down, he carefully observed the wall and doors on the right side of him, and ironed bars on his left. The control room was right down this hallway, Squalo is therefore supposed to be here. But he could see the dark door closed in the distance, no light flickering under it, and the corridor was empty. Where is Squalo?

Levi dropped his gaze to the ground, deep in thought, so it took a while before he realised what he was looking at. Something long and thin sparkled on the floor; picking it up, it was a long, elegant white hair. A single one. It was nothing unusual, swordsman's hair could be found _everywhere_, even in the odd places Squalo had never visited before - in drawers, in showers of other officers, in the food, in everyone's uniforms, tangled in boss's feathers - it was something people with really long hair sympathized with. People with short hair did not.

However, Levi felt a shiver down his spine upon seeing this single white hair. He could not explain why it was so, but something felt ... _off_. He looked around him again, but everything was as it had always been, no signs of struggle, blood or unidentified aura of an enemy. His imagination? He cursed himself and let the hair slip from his fingers.

The very moment it touched the ground, Levi sensed a presence and reached for his parabola, only to stop in mid-action.

"W-what ...?"

A man had appeared before the doors of the control room. Where did he come from? So suddenly, even? Lightning man only needed to take two steps further for his eyes to adjust and take in the features of this man.

"_Impossible_!"

With a shocked yell, he staggered backwards, opening and closing his mouth in gasping suprise. Though half of the hallway was plunged in darkness, and moon shone on the man with silver light, his mind already coloured him in shades he remembered this man had.

Tall, slim. Messy sand blond hair. Pale green eyes behind glasses. Thin face. Somewhere between twenty and thirty years of age. Varia uniform of ten years ago and a hypocritical smile.

Ottabio, former vice-captain of the Varia, who plotted to overthrow Xanxus. But boss literally incinerated him, not a living cell was left of his body ... yet here he was.

"Ah, this place hasn't changed one bit. Nostalgic, nostalgic."

His voice was smooth and pleasing to the ears.

"Stop! Don't you dare move!" Levi got over his shock and pointed a parabola at Ottabio. He didn't know how or why this bastard was alive and what was happening, but when people who are supposeed to be dead suddenly pop up ... it means nothing but trouble.

"It should have been mine."

Ottabio's pleasant façade began to crumble as his mouth twitched and eyes shone coldly at Leviathan.

"Mine. Without that runt's interference, I would have been the next Varia boss."

Levi remembered that. His memories took him back on Mare Diabolo, when Squalo sensed Xanxus' life was in mortal danger and send Mammon to help him, who showed up just in time.

"You'd never defeat him!" Lightning man faithfully defended his boss. "And you had ... have ... none of the qualities boss ..."

Levi was cut short when Ottabio burst into ferocious laughter, but it didn't sound like the small, smooth chuckle Leviathan remembered it was. Instead, it was loud, growling, animalistic.

"_Qualities_? Anyone can sit on their fat ass and develop an alcohol addiction if that's what you look up to in Tenth!" Ottabio still referred to Xanxus like he used to call him eleven years ago.

Confusion and fear momentarily forgotten, Levi was enraged. "Take that back! I won't fogive you for insulting boss like that! Pre ..." He suddenly fell silent. Hair on his arms stood up. Ottabio was beginning to look less and less like a human being; his mouth continued to twitch, he breathed in and out heavily and ... are ... wait. Levi shifted his weight form one feet ot the other. The way he rememberes, former vice-captain's shoulders were not so big, so broad. He was tall, but not _this_ tall.

As he received another shock, lightning man staggered backwards once more. Ottabio seemed to be expanding. His shoulders were bulking, he was growing taller and low, growling sounds reached Leviathan's ears.

"Ottabio! Ottabio?"

The deformed man did not answer. For the first time in his life, Levi's breathing quickened, his palms were sweaty and he could feel his heart beating in his throat. It was fear. He had never felt it before in such pure form. His survival instincts were telling him to run.

Something odd was happening with Ottabio's skin. At first, it looked like trick of the light, then it began to boil. Large, skin-coloured bubbles formed on his face and hands, making disgusting popping sounds.

"AAAHHH!"

Lightning man screamed in horror as chunks of Ottabio's skin began to slid of his face. He barely saw something black, bloody and hairy on the places where his skin had once been, before he turned and ran, ran away, ran as fast as he could.

It was not like him to be so easily frightened, but panic that had rosen in him was screaming that this ... this ... _this_ had come to kill boss. He must find boss! He must warn boss! He must save boss!

Without looking back once, he ran up the stairs, down the corridor, hot sweat trailing on his face - and it did not occur to simple-minded Levi that in his haste to warn Xanxus of danger, he will lead Ottabio right to him. Luckily, footsteps that echoed behind him for most of the chase had quiet down, it seems he had lost him ...

It was only now that Leviathan noticed everything around him was becoming more visible. Abruptly, he came to a halt. Thick white fog swirled around his ankles, but he did not see it, for his eyes were glued in terrible fear on the scene unfolding in front of him.

Xanxus stood there, a shadow over his face. Before him was a woman, reaching barely to his shoulders. When her dirty, brown hooded cloack slipped off her head, it revealed her dark hair, sheepishly tied into a small, sad ponytail. Her eyes were wide, lines of exhaustion under them. Her lips were trembeling, and she was looking at Xanxus with eyes of a mad woman.

Though Levi had never seen her before, he immediately recognised her.

"_Mio figlio! Mio figlio! Grazie a Dio ho trovato voi! Mio bel figlio!_"

Her voice was so desperate it could break anyone's heart. She outstreched her hands towards Varia boss.

The mother of Xanxus.

Another person who died long ago.

"_Dio mio! Mio bel figlio! Mio figlio ... e tu sei il mio tutto!_"

She threw herself on Xanxus, trapping him in a tight hug. Her eyes shone madly, her mouth formed a derranged open-mouthed smile, and her greedy fingers dug deep into the back of his shirt. Impenetrable white fog enveloped their bodies from their legs to their necks, before the sight of mother and son disappeared into thin air.

"BOSS! BOSS!"

Leviathan's screams were echoing, nothing but darkness surrounded him again. Not a trace of Xanxus left behind but his black gun with proud red X, that lay on the floor, forgotten.


	5. Diamonds and Pollen

Belphegor didn't mind Flan walking behind him, even if his objection is to prove his own genious. Let the kid observe and be in awe. Their footsteps echoed down the empty, dark hallway. It was odd, actually, now that he thought about it, that Flan didn't comment on ... well, on everything. Perhaps the frog finally realised how much of a child he still is and is now shaking with fear?

A wide grin spread across his face. Kouhai was scared shitless. He can have some fun with that ... Lussuria said to hurry, but he has time for an innocent, little prank, right?

»Shishishishi.«

Quiet laughter breezed between them, but illusionist didn't open his mouth to inform his senpai how creepy his laugh is in current situation. For a moment, Bel had a feeling maybe something was wrong, but he brushed it aside. What should he do? Disappear and hide nearby, watching Flan panic? Or pretend he …

»Hm?«

The prince, though it was impossible for anyone to see, blinked in suprise, as illusionist suddenly ran before him. Stopping in his tracks, he quietly observed the small boy. Flan stood before him, staring. It was the most odd staring contest you can think of, with Bel's bloody shirt and growing irritation, and Flan's unblinking, blood-shot eyes, both standing in silence and half-darkness.

Finally, in slow, almost lazy movement, green haired teen motioned his senpai to follow him. As he started to walk away, the prince still stood there. What does this mean? What is this frog up to? He took a step forward, then changed his mind and stopped again. No … this really is weird. Flan was late to the meeting. He was quiet the whole time. His eyes were bloody.

Belphegor gritted his teeth in anger. Fuck fuck fuck! His brain could not connect the pieces together into a resonable picture, but wasn't he a genious? His hands clenched into fists. If anyone, _he_ should be the one to figure all this out! And he _will_!

Confidence and determination, fueled by anger and humiliation, drove the prince to step fiercely behind Flan, who was now far ahead, but Belphegor had no trouble catching up. He doesn't need this frog's voice, he'll trust his own senses to connect the dots. So he was fine with walking in silence, who wants to hear insults on every step anyway? Too bad he wasn't this quiet since the day he and Squalo kidnapped him.

Flan lead him to the kitchen door. In silence, he looked behind his shoulder at the prince. For a second, Bel felt confused, since he sensed something was wrong with this picture, but immediately found out what in the next second – there was a very bright, almost white light coming from underneath the kitchen door, gleaming from the keyhole as well. Illusionist pressed the door handle down, and if Belphegor wouldn't be a well-trained assassin, he'd stagger backwards and gasped. But because he was a well-trained assassin, the only signs he was feeling uneasy were two drops of cold sweat coming down the side of his cheek, and his hand that trembled slightly, as he tried to grip his knives subconsciously, but then quickly stopped.

The kitchen was unrecognizable. It's never been so bright, so white. But the light was coming from thousands of dandelions, growing right there, all over the kitchen floor, a lot of them even from the walls. Dandelions were long and each one so close to the other, Bel couldn't see the floor. The kitchen had become a wild, dandelion jungle, with dandelion seeds calmly swirling in the air.

Prince had heard the slow, creaking noise, but didn't concern himself with it; he took a step into the kitchen instead, soft dandelion stalks giving in under his feet, with his mouth slightly open. Flan walked to the left side, undressing his Varia jacket. He neatly folded it on the table, and sat on the ground with crossed legs not far away from it, more comfortable in his blue sweater. His arms rested on his knees, as he looked up at Bel, his usually emotionless eyes now shining meaningfully, as if to say _well, now you know_.

Belphegor could feel his mind was slipping away from him. Prince the Ripper inside was waking up. Mental confusion was too much for his already damaged mind. Slowly he turned his head towards the noise. On the right side of the table was an elderly woman, sitting in a rocking chair that was creaking. She was reading a cook book. The rocking chair stopped moving, and she looked up with her wrinkly, pale face, giving Bel a small smile.

She said something in a foreign language, and prince's genious mind translated it in a flash, despite his brain currently waging a war between staying Belphegor and becoming Prince the Ripper. She spoke in french, something about being happy Flan brought home his first friend, but all Bel could think about was …

»Frog,« he turned to illusionist, a small, cold smile on his lips. »Who is this? It's her voice I heard inside the wind.«

Flan kept staring at something under the table.

»My grandmother. I don't know why she's reading a cook book, though. She's an awful cook.«

His voice was almost normal, but quieter than usual and a little distant. Belphegor didn't respond.

»It's not like I wanted this, senpai. So young. If only you'd die before me, I could run away and survive, growing to be older than you. Then I'd be the one ordering you to do chores. No, that wouldn't be possible, you'd be dead. I lose either way, it's not fair.«

Belphegor's smile disappeared. He looked at the exact spot Flan was staring, but forest of dandelions prevented him from seeing anything. Taking another step forward, then another, he bended down, to see what was under the table.

It was Flan. Bel looked back at the illusionist sitting on the ground. Then back at the Flan lying under the table. Leaning closer, his nose caught a crude scent of blood and urine. That was definitely Flan's body under the table, but … he had no face. Dark red meat, with a few strings of white, oozing blood and something darkly yellow. Belphegor stood up.

The scene did not shock him, for he was usually the creator of such masterpieces. Flan was skinned alive. Breathing in deeply, the kitchen swinged before his eyes, his mind slipping from Belphegor to Prince the Ripper and back again. Behind soft blond bangs, he closed his eyes.

»Frog …«

Flan nodded. »Bel-senpai, I know as much as you, but let me try and help. From what I gathered, there's one of them for one of us. I think, because our loud captain was taken down and that okama too.«

»… by who?«

»Ettooo … captain by someone named Tyr, and Lussuria-senpai by his collection of corpses.«

»… the others?«

»I don't know,« Flan raised his eyebrows at Bel, not knowing the latter couldn't see him, »I only know about the ones who are dead. Like me.«

»… you are …?«

Flan looked at his hands. »I thought I was a ghost, but I can open doors and pick up forks …«

Belphegor threw his head back, almost laughing, but he managed to push back his madness for the time being. His mind slowly connected the dots.

Mansion was manually put into lockdown.

Flan was skinned alive before he reached the meeting room.

Skinned alive by his grandmother, who was dead for a long time now.

The voice he heard in the wind was hers, and she was searching for Flan.

Flan is a poltergeist.

Captain Squalo goes on his own.

Is killed by Tyr.

Tyr is dead.

Lussuria murdered by people he killed.

Status and whereabouts of boss and Leviathan are unknown.

_One of them for each one of us._

Flan's grandmother is his only relative. Tyr and Squalo knew each other for a long time, before they fought. Lussuria had an intimate obsession with his 'beautiful corpses'. Though he had never seen her, Bel was now positive the woman Xanxus saw and refused to shoot was his mother. Identity of the person after Leviathan is not known to him.

All these people are dead, and have been for a long time. Meaning, someone resurrected them. Someone with terrifying powers, who knows of Varia's past and security system. But there was another thing …

»Frog. You're a poltergeist.«

»Huh? Are?« Flan looked at his senpai, then at his hands, then at senpai again. Belphegor's head leaned forward. He opened his eyes.

»Just like your grandmother.«

»Oooooh.«

»What was … is Tyr?«

»Ettoo … mmm … he seems like a devil to me.«

Bel dropped his gaze to the floor, or more precisely, dandelions. So each one is different. But he has no time for that. His own life is at stake, for he knows very well who's coming for him.

»Eh? Ah? Are? Senpai?«

Flan's confused calls echoed behind the prince, who started running out of the kitchen in a split second, back into the cold darkness. His breathing and footsteps were the only sound in the quiet mansion. Even Bel has now realized how eery it is. He turned right and ran down the hallway. One stairs and two hallways and he'll be at the front door, he'll break it down somehow … somehow! No one will kill him, especially not that …

»It's useless, Bel.«

The prince came to halt slowly, a striking contrast to his previous rushed panic. The hallway before him was silent and calm. Then something black and thick was boiling on the floor nearby; Belphegor jumped back.

An arm rose from the disgusting liquid, then a shoulder, head and torso, until a young man stood up from it, chunks of thick blackness falling from his body. His skin was white and a little grey, from what Bel could see in the moonlight. He had strange scars coming down all of his body, with silver buckles sticking from skin. It was as if someone would tore apart this man the way one would tore apart a doll, then sew his body parts back together, fastening them with silver buckles to be sure he won't fall apart.

The man grinned. Belphegor began to sweat.

»Your past will always haunt you, shitty little brother. Until one of us is dead.«

»You are dead,« Bel almost whispered.

It happened so fast, even someone like Belphegor was lost for a moment. Rasiel lunged forward with his black nails, aiming at Bel's chest, when a wild yell made them both look back over the prince's shoulder. Seconds later, Leviathan came into view, running, streams of tears coming down his cheeks.

»BOSS! BOSS! BOSS IS …!«

Horrible sound of inhuman screams filled the air, something heavy hit and broke something wooden, probably a door, and twin princes saw a big, black, hairy mess chasing Levi. Belphegor quickly took adventage of the situation and ducked below Rasiel's outstreched arms, running as fast as he could away from him.

»NOOOOOO!«

His twin screamed in pure rage at the exact moment Leviathan came running past him.

»HE WAS MINE! YOU RUINED IT! YOU RUINED IT!«

Foam sprouted from Rasiel's mouth as he dig his black fingernails in Levi's neck. With strenght no human posesses, he forced Varia's thunder guardian to stop. Screaming, frustrated, he pulled Leviathan on his knees. Before Levi could even so much as blink, Rasiel grabbed his shoulders and twisted him backwards.

A scream of pain got stuck in thunder man's throat, never getting a chance to escape his lips, as awful cracking sounds filled the hallway.

The fabled prince broke Leviathan's spine. Once so brutal and tall, he was now reduced to a grotesque figure, folded backwards like paper.

»You garbage stop killing my trash!«

Gunshots exploded, three bullets violenlty hit Rasiel's chest, but the prince did not fall, only took a suprised step back. Xanxus appeared out of nowhere, ready to fire his gun again.

»Y-you … you were supposed to be _dead_ by now!« The prince screamed, unaffected by his injury.

Xanxus cocked his gun, when he sensed something from the side. But Varia's boss was too late. Black monster jumped on him. Xanxus fired. Monster and boss stared in each other's eyes for a brief moment, but long enough for Xanxus to recognize those cruel, cold eyes belong to Ottabio.

The two fell down on the floor. Growling in victory, the monster sunk his teeth in Xanxus' neck and tore out his windpipe.

Rasiel started to run, determined to catch and kill his cursed brother, when calm voice boomed down the hallway.

»You're not needed anymore.«

»Wait!« The prince screamed. »I'm not done yet! I can still-«

»No. You got your chance. I'll take care of Bel now.«

»No!«

Thick black liquid began swallowing Rasiel's legs, yet he still wanted to move forward. »No! I'll kill him! I can do it! I'm not done yet! Stop!« His fingernails schratched on the floor but it was all in vain. Rasiel was swallowed by darkness from which he came. Hallway was now calm again, only low, silent growls coming from the monster, who chewed on Xanxus' neck. Boss's body lay lifelessly under it, his fingers still holding onto his gun. Xanxus's blood stained the windows, walls and floor, running down any cracks it could find in this old building, ready to dry inside, and become part of its bloody history forever.

* * *

**The next chapter will be the last. This one was shorter because the next one is only the big finale.**

**Another thing - if you send me an anonymous review asking me if and when do I plan to continue this story, I CAN'T ANSWER you because it's impossible to answer ANONYMOUS reviews. Then I'm just staring at your review, thinking I want to answer the fuck out of it, but I CAN'T. And then I get frustrated. I never planned on leaving the fic unfinished! I like it! I'm finishing it! Soon! But I want to do other stories too, so deal with it if I don't update for a long time!**


	6. Luci in the Sky With Demons

Screams died out behind him, and the prince didn't like it. As long as there would be voices, he'd knew something was happening, but silence made him feel uneasy. Like all eyes are on him. Like's he's a rat in a glass box.

Belphegor found himself completely under control again, as if the mere sight of his twin brother was enough to keep him sane long enough for his mind to calculate the escape route. Running down the last hallway, he didn't stop when magnificent dark wooden double door came into view, blocked by rusty iron bars. He can do it, only the front door and he'll be free, it won't be hard …

Pulling the knives out, he threw them with precise aim he was so well-known for, but just like earlier in front of his room, they clashed with the iron bars and fell down with a sad, loud _clank_. Bel stopped right before the doors. Think, think, think. He can't squeeze through the bars, knives won't cut through them … shit, shit, shit … shit, shit, _shit_! With desperation only a man fighting for his life knows, the prince started hitting the doors with his fists and legs, and the sound echoed loudly through the silent mansion. Gritting his teeth, the only thing he could think about was freedom and how to achieve it. Cold sweat dripped from his heated face, while his skin, not used to be handled to roughly, gave in and he felt warm blood dripping through his fingers.

The sight of his bloody hands dealt a violent blow to his brain, and for a moment he remained still, while the door swinged before his eyes. Prince the Ripper was rising to the surface, greedily inhaling strong scent of blood. His body twitched, an involuntary reaction to his instincts suddenly going out of control. Belphegor threw himself over the iron bars, clawing the door with his nails, drawing fresh blood, acting purely on the most basic human instinct – survival.

It took some time, and blood, before the prince calmed down to the point he began to realize he's not going to break free. Not through this door. What to do? He can't escape through windows or doors which are bared, and _all_ of them are bared. What to do? Where to go? How to solve this?

_Squalo would know._

Fuck Squalo! The idiot was dead. He can figure it out on his own, on his own, he can do it, he won't be minced here …

_Boss could blow down the wall. Boss will survive._

Of course, all he needs to do is find boss. Wasn't Levi shouting something about him? Where could Xanxus be right now? He heard gunshots while he ran, so he must be back there … Belphegor's breathing quickened. He isn't going back. No. Not back.

His hand shot up and gripped his blond hair. He … he can't breathe. This mansion, however spacious, is closing in on him. Everything … around … is … claustrophobic … he's …

Bel turned and ran in random direction, it didn't matter where, as long as he's on the move, and not standing in the same spot, going insane. Windows, bars, shadows, moonlight, tables, vases, doors, everything he ran past seemed unnatural, distant, foreign. Is this still Varia mansion? His body sweat and his blood are what was real to him. Nothing else. Boss, boss, boss, boss, boss will know a way out, he'll survive, boss will never die …

»Let's stop here, Bel.«

Prince tripped over his own feet and fell down. Normally, he'd never do something like that, he wasn't clumsy either, but shock … the shock was too much. Not because the voice spoke so suddenly. Not because he just realized he's going to die. But because he knows that voice. He hadn't heard it for a long, long, long time.

He slowly turned around on the floor, now lying on his back. Why bother standing up? Everyone is dead. He's going to die, die, die, _dddiiiiieeeee_ ….

»Don't go Prince the Ripper on me now, Bel. I'd like to talk to you a little, and I want you to understand at least half of what I'm saying.«

Belphegor looked up at the person standing before him. His lips were curved into a nervous smile, as he fought back Prince the Ripper.

»They're all … dead, aren't they?«

»Does it make you feel lonely?«

»Never,« Belphegor answered so quickly, his tormentor didn't even finish the sentence when he already responded.

»You never showed it as openly as Levi or Squalo, but you're very loyal to the boss. I'm sure someone like you feels sadness and regret to a certain degree.«

The prince stared. Of course. He'd die for Xanxus … not that it matters now. By now, he already noticed why everything seemed so alien to him while he ran. In every corner, under every table, hidden in every shadow, were human forms. Young men, with wax-like skin and void, mindless eyes. He didn't knew all of them, but he's seen some. Lussuria's victims. They're waiting. For him.

»I see you've noticed them. Bel. Lussuria's corpse collection proved to be the most useful. They're not acting on emotion, they're brainless puppets.«

Belphegor stared quietly at his tormentor.

»To tell you the truth, this wasn't supposed to happen. The others weren't supposed to die. I only wanted you. You were my goal. I started redirecting calls and post to Varia mansion, hoping you, the genious, would let down your guard if there would be no mission for a long time. But I'm not as stupid as Squalo. Despite how lazy you looked, you were always vigilant. Like boss, huh?«

Mindless puppets moved forward, slowly sliding to the lying prince.

»You all gave me so much trouble. For such menly men who don't care about affection and always go on and on how you hate each other, you sure are a tight-knitted group. Do you know how hard it is to get one of you alone without others showing up sooner or later?«

A single drop made its way down the prince's cheek. Because his blonde hair covered his eyes, it was impossible to know if it was sweat … or a tear. He let his eyes travel up and down his tormentor; long, slim legs, arms calmly by the sides.

Hands grabbed the prince's arms and legs, torso and neck, ten hands, twenty hands, all greedily sinking their nails in his skin, ripping his clothes slowly. His mind was already halfway gone, his vision obscured by darkness, a little light flickering here and there. The puppets were over him, he couldn't see anything anymore. Faintly, he felt something painful down his body, but he gathered the very last bits of sanity to finally speak up.

»Why, Mammon?«

Though he didn't see the illusionist, the voice came to him clearly.

»Why? You really can't imagine a single reason why … Bel?«

The voice was a little higher than usual, but Belphegor didn't notice. He answered as if he didn't hear Mammon at all, whispering with his dying breath.

»Why, Mammon? You were … my …«

The last words were never spoken. Not that they matter now. Screams, growling, howling, splatter, everything was swallowed down by the mansion, not a single sound escaped outside. And so the mansion stood. Silent witness to never speak.

Twitching violently, he woke up with a start. What? _What_? He slowly pushed himself up, leaning on the elbows. His head was very heavy. That was the worst sleep he'd gotten since … since ever.

»Are? Senpai, you're up? I missed my chance.«

Belphegor looked to the left. Flan stood there, by the side of his bed, staring at him. His eyes were not bloody.

»Wh … what are you doing in prince's room, frog?«

Images of the nightmare still swirled in Bel's mind, making him uneasy. It was hard to pull himself back in reality.

»Stupid loud captain is calling for a meeting. You know how we have the rule if you don't wake up on time, you die?« Flan raised his finger. »You woke up so I missed my chance.«

»You bastard!« The prince hissed, angry. He grabbed the knives from his nightstand and threw them at Flan's head.

The knives flied right through. Right through as if Flan would be nothing buta ir, and landed deep in the wall behind him. Belphegor's jaw dropped. Headache worsened. His hands started shaking.

»Bel-senpai, what is it? You're pale. Are you sick?«

_=What was Mammon's objective? Illusionist died, but appeared now in adult form, even. Where are Varia's bodies? What's happening to Belphegor? All loose ends will be tied in the sequel, entitled Hidden. Tsuna and his guardians are called from the past to investigae the mysterious vanishment of Vongloa's special independent assassination squad. Will they solve the mystery or pay for their interferance with their life?=_

* * *

**I ended it, wow. At least the first part. I hope I'll see most of you in the sequel, but if not, thank you all so much for supporting me this far. It means a lot, and I really appreciate it, I'm very grateful for every review you've send me, because they made me try harder and there's no better medicine for exhaustion after every chapter.**

**The sequel, Hidden, will be out as soon as I finish the new short thriller story I'm planning to do.**

**A message for anonymous 'Reader': No, you have nothing to apologize for, I didn't mean it that way. I have nothing against anonymous reviews, it's just frustrating if someone anonymously asks me a question about an update, because I'm pretty sensitive to that stuff (I already freak myself out enough if I don't update, let alone someone points it out) and I wanted so, so, so badly to click on you and send you a message right away, saying I will update and don't worry, I've only been busy, but I couldn't do that, so I flipped a little. That's all. I'm actually suprised and flattered someone who doesn't have an account keeps an eye out for my stories (from what I read I'm guessing you've read them all, or most of them), I think that's harder to do when you're not a member.**


End file.
